


Lilacs

by mukaitaiyou



Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fabric Store, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, One Shot, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-28
Updated: 2016-07-28
Packaged: 2018-07-26 15:23:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7579297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mukaitaiyou/pseuds/mukaitaiyou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Bak Chang inherited his parents' fabric store 9 years ago, he never thought he would like the job. But it's customers like Komui Lee that soften the blow of having to constantly answer sewing questions when you've never touched a sewing machine in your entire life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lilacs

Bak was buried halfway to his neck in thread when he heard the bells on the back of the door clink. He peeked his head out from underneath the counter and saw a tall man with long, dark hair and glasses come through the door, ducking his head slightly as to avoid smashing it on the door frame.

“Yo, Komui,” he called nonchalantly from his hiding spot.

Every week he’d come in after he was finished with work and do the same thing: walk around the quilting section for half an hour, pick up a hideous quilting fabric or two, come to the counter, and ask Bak to cut a quarter of a meter of each.

“Good evening, Bak-chan!” Komui smiled cheerfully, and dropped two bolts of fabric on the counter. Compared to his usual purchases, these were a nice change. There were no paisley pastels or obnoxiously bright tonal flower prints, and instead a solid seafoam green and dark grey print with muted purple lilacs scattered on it.

“These are nice... what gives?” Bak asked as he grabbed the scissors from his back pocket and started to unroll the fabric.

“So rude! You think I have bad taste?”

“I _know_ you have bad taste,” Bak said, cutting straight through the first cotton and moving onto the next. “I tell you that every time you come in.”

Komui laughed hardily. “It’s not for me, that’s why I’m going outside my wheelhouse.”

Over the past year and a half that Komui had been coming to the shop, Bak had become intimately familiar with most aspects from his life. He knew Komui was a robotics engineering professor and the head of the engineering department at the university, and that he loved his job and his coworkers (even though they didn’t always love his robots).

He knew about how Komui’s parents were killed in an accident when he was a teenager and how he’d raised his little sister practically on his own since then. He’d tell Bak stories about her when she was young, and about his woes as the guardian of a high schooler who was dipping her feet in the waters of independence.

“Is it for Lenalee?”

“Nope. It’s for a friend.” he said, running his fingers through his hair. It had gotten long... he definitely needed a haircut. Komui was beautiful. His hair framed his face perfectly, even when it was overgrown and a bit shaggy looking. His eyes lit up when he spoke, and when he was listening to someone he always looked liked like what the other person was saying was the most important thing he’d ever heard. Bak hadn’t really ever known anyone like that before he met Komui.

Komui knew about Bak, too. He knew that he’d had a rocky relationship with his parents when they were alive because of the pressure they put on him as a kid to succeed. He knew about the fact that Bak didn’t have many friends as a kid (or now, really, besides his sister, who also worked part-time at the store), and that not a lot of his classmates treated him well for being the “weird kid” who cried a lot and was too serious for his age. 

Komui knew that Bak’s mother wasn’t happy when he shaved all his hair off when he was 19, and he never had a chance to explain that he wasn’t just trying to rebel and hurt her by doing all this. He knew that Bak’s biggest regret was not being honest with her and his father, and instead, pushing them as far away as possible.

Whenever Komui came in, they’d talk about their lives. Bak would complain about regular customers or about the shitty apartment above the store he was living in and the landlord from hell who _refused_ to fix his broken faucet. Komui would almost always dive directly into a story: _“You won’t BELIEVE what Reaver did today at work..”_ , and they would both laugh for 15 minutes straight.

An interaction that would usually take two minutes with a normal customer would take at least ten with Komui, somehow they always would end up getting sidetracked and Bak would get pulled into a conversation.

They were comfortable with each other.

“Do you like lilacs, Bak-chan?”

“They smell nice, I guess,” he looked away and replied, feeling a blush creep up on his cheeks. He paused, folding the fabric and placing it on top of the first one. “Why?”

“No reason,” he smiled coyly and picked up the folded cottons, throwing them into his computer bag. 

Bak raised one eyebrow, and typed the codes and amount into the register. “Bullshit, you’ve got some sort of motive, you always do. Also, you owe me ¥ 66.60元”

“I just wanted advice from friend,” he pulled out his wallet and handed Bak a note. He pouted “You’re so cold today!” 

“Bite me, Komui.” He pulled the change from the drawer and dropped it in Komui’s open hand. 

“You have a good night too, Bak-chan!” he replied smugly, and walked towards the exit. Before he got a chance to turn around, he heard Komui shout from the front door. 

“What’s your favorite animal?” 

“Frogs,” Bak called across the store, “why?” 

“Good night!” he yelled, walking out and shutting the door behind him. Bak shook his head and picked up the bolts that he’d just cut and put them back on the shelf. He caught a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, and laughed. 

He never thought he’d enjoy his job as much as he did. 

When Bak had abruptly inherited his parents’ shop 9 years ago, he didn’t quite realize how difficult it would be for someone who knew absolutely nothing about sewing to answer questions about how to baste a quilt or sew in a zipper or what needle to use for sewing knit fabrics. He resented the job for a long time. He even thought about quitting and selling the shop to someone who actually cared. 

Over time though, he’d come to appreciate the place. He learned sewing lingo and techniques from his customers, and he even had regulars he got along with well and considered a big part of his life. But Komui was different. He wanted to be with Komui outside work, he wanted to be a part of his life outside of just being the clerk that he made conversation with every week at the fabric store. Bak wanted to get coffee with Komui and hear him complain about the Dean of the university. He wanted to come home after a long day and complain about customers with his head on Komui’s shoulder. 

“Weird one, isn’t he?” Bak jumped when heard the voice. He turned around to see that to his surprise, his sister had practically appeared out of nowhere.

“Fucks sake, Fou,” he said with audible annoyance in his voice. “I thought you were in the back room.”

“Nah, more fun spying on you from behind the organza,” she winked. Bak rolled his eyes and made his way back to the counter in the back of the store, with Fou following suit close behind.

He picked up the broom and started to sweep the dust and glitter from the day’s purchases into a neat pile in front of the fabric counter. Fou plopped herself down on the stool behind the register and rested her hands on her chin, staring intently at her still-smiling brother.

“You like him, don’t you?”

Bak swung his head around, his face flushed bright red. “W-what?” he spluttered, before regaining his composure. “Ha, like I would like some _idiot_ like that. I have taste, thanks.”

“You’re a total moron too,” she teased, stifling a giggle. “It’s meant to be!”

She leaned further forward on the counter and wiggled her eyebrows. “Besides, I think he’s interested-- if you know what I mean.”

“Shut the fuck up,” he muttered under his breath.

Bak barely heard the cry of “Respect your elders, you brat!” before Fou vaulted over the counter and put him in a headlock.

 

\--

 

It was raining.

It had also been three weeks since Komui had come in, but there was no correlation between the two (no matter how much Fou joked that Bak’s moods were so strong they could control the weather).

Bak was sat on the stool with his feet propped up on the counter and his head buried in some shoujo manga his sister had left in his apartment. He heard the bell on the front door clink when it opened, and unenthusically called “If I can be of any assistance, don’t hesitate to ask.” out into the shop’s foyer.

Soft footsteps echoed through the store as someone made their way to the registers. “How may I help you?” Bak said, lifting his head.

“Are you busy?” The girl standing in front of him smiled. She had shoulder length dark hair that was glistening from the rain, and was wearing a school uniform. She didn’t look any older than 17. 

Bak put his book down and sat up, stretching his arms above his head. “Nope. What do you need?”

The girl pulled out her cell phone and swiped around a couple times on the screen. “Sorry,” she smiled sheepishly. “I don’t know anything about sewing… I’ve got marching orders.”

 _"So she’s buying something for her mom, then… Maybe her grandma? Ok. Not just a first time clueless customer. I can deal with that."_   Bak thought, psyching himself up. “Alright, fire away.”

“I need two spools of 100% cotton thread in the color ‘8727’, one package of basting needles, and…” she paused, cocking an eyebrow and turning the phone to him. “Sorry, I don’t know how to pronounce this.” 

Bak chuckled. “Mercerized cotton yarn. It’s over here.”

He led her around the store looking for the items on her list and they made small talk about the weather, about the fact that she didn’t know her way around a sewing machine and neither did he. Every time she opened her mouth she moved her hands in animated motions that expressed every emotion she wanted to convey. She reminded him a lot of his own sister, but less likely to kick him in the back of the knees while he was carrying a heavy box and laugh for ten solid minutes like she’d done while they were unloading the truck earlier that morning.

“Was that everything you needed?” he asked when he started to ring her out and place the little pile of notions in a small paper bag with the shop’s logo embossed on the front.

“Yes, thank you so much Bak-san… You’re a lifesaver.” She said and handed him a bill and some change. Bak nodded his head and traded the money for the bag, setting it in the register’s drawer.

“I hope whoever you’re getting these for’s appreciative.”

“My brother always is...” She smiled warmly and bowed. “He talks about you all the time, Bak-san.”

Bak froze, the realization hitting him. “You’re Lenalee?”

They had the same bright, kind eyes.

“So he talks about me too… Sorry if he’s showed you the baby pictures,” she continued, almost cringing.  “And I’m even more sorry in advance if he ever shows you the slideshow of my school pictures.”

Bak laughed. Same sense of humor too. How could he _not_ have known she was his sister.

“Tell him I say hi,” he said. “And that-" 

He paused, interrupting himself- “If he doesn’t bring me the coffee he promised six months ago I’ll find out where he lives and kick his ass.”

“Will do!” She beamed, waving when she walked out the door. The bells chimed as the door slammed shut.

While he was brushing his teeth that night, he closed his eyes and let the sound of rain outside and the bustle of downtown Shanghai wash over him. It was almost a comforting melody to him and had been since he was a child.

The city was one of the ever-appreciated constants in his life. It was something that wouldn’t disappear in a second and leave him alone and scared in this world. He wouldn’t ever need to think about needing closure with his home town. 

Bak spit his toothpaste in the sink and let the water run cold. He sighed and leaned down, splashing it over his face. He dried himself off and tossed the towel into a hamper in the corner of the room that was full to the brim with dirty laundry that he’d been avoiding for weeks. 

Bak stared into the mirror in front of him, the reflection staring back looked exhausted and beat down. Was it his fault? He didn’t want this, whatever “this” was that he had with Komui, to be yet another thing in his life that just faded out of existence.

 _"You deserve to be happy, idiot. You live too much inside your own head and you blame yourself too much… I’m worried about you. Just cut yourself some slack, ok? Whatever happened, it’s not your fault.”_  

Fou’s words from 9 years ago echoed in his brain.

“... And that I miss him,” he said before flipping the lightswitch and flooding the room with darkness.

 

\--

 

All the next day, Bak had been trying to take Fou’s advice. It had been a good day for sales, and not too many nasty customers had tried to come in and “speak to the manager” when they couldn’t use an expired coupon from last Sunday’s newspaper. The day had gone off without a hitch, he’d even been able to send Fou home early because it wasn’t busy.

“Takeout later? I’ll buy!” she’d offered.   

He wanted to say _“You still haven’t paid me back from the last 4 times! I know it’s only because you feel bad for me, you shitty cheapskate!”_ , but instead just agreed because he was broke at the moment, and shooed her out of the store. 

He was sweeping the area around the counter as always, getting ready to close down for the evening when the door clinked. 

“We close in 5 minutes, is there anything I can help you fin-” 

“Bak Chang-chan!” 

Komui was standing in the entranceway, a cheerful smile plastered across his face and deep bags sunken into his eyes. He was panting, almost as if he’d been running to get there before closing. Bak stood there silently, almost in shock. 

“Sorry I’ve been M.I.A.” he said apologetically, rubbing the back of his head. “I’ve been a little busy.”

Bak snapped himself out of it and leaned the broom against the counter, taking a step forwards and crossing his arms. “I was afraid you died in your office from a caffeine overdose or something…” he looked Komui up and down. “You look like shit. Have you slept at all in the past three weeks?”

“That’s nothing to say to a friend you haven’t seen in almost a month!” Komui frowned, his voice dripping with sarcasm. 

Bak rolled his eyes. They stood in silence for a moment before he interjected. 

“I met Lenalee. She was every bit as great as you tell people.” He paused. “She’s so well adjusted… You’ve done more for her than you give yourself credit for.” 

Komui smiled softly and started to walk towards the back of the store. He noticed that the other was holding a large paper bag in his hand, which he stretched out and offered it to Bak. 

“What is this?” 

“Just open it,” he said. 

Bak tore the bright tissue paper covering the contents of the bag and reached inside. Whatever was inside was soft. He slowly pulled the folded pile of fabric out, and saw the purple lilacs strewn on the grey background. Bak’s hands were shaking when he turned around and spread it out on the counter. 

It was a quilt. 

There were squares of the purple lilac fabric surrounded by stars carefully crafted out of other things that he’d bought over the year and a half that he’d been coming to the shop. There was even a small applique of a frog in the top right hand corner. He was speechless. And in the middle of the quilt, he noticed a star made from a lotus print fabric that he’d recommended on the first day that Komui had ever come in. 

_”My great-uncle talked about them all the time when he was going senile. Something about how they reminded him of someone callled ‘Alma’... We never figured out what he was talking about. But they remind me of him.”_

_“Sounds like you’re sentimental,” he paused and squinted at the nametag, “Bak-chan.”_

_“-chan?!"_

Bak was awestruck. By the gift, by the gesture; all of it. He couldn’t do anything but stare.

“This is what I’ve been working on,” Komui said, a faint red tinge crossing his sharp cheekbones. Bak turned around and met Komui’s gaze, and he felt his face go white hot. He looked away, almost afraid he’d break into hives if he looked at him for any longer. 

“I can’t accept this-” he started before Komui cut him off. 

“You put up with me coming in every week and bothering you, Bak-chan.” He took a step closer and Bak’s flush crept to the tops of his ears. “You’ve done more for me than you give yourself credit for." 

Everything was too close and Bak’s heart was pounding so hard he felt like it was going to burst. He took a deep breath in and closed his eyes. _”Here goes nothing”_  . He grabbed Komui’s tie and pulled forward, haphazardly pressing his lips against Komui’s, bringing him into a long kiss that conveyed months of feelings. Komui made a little shocked noise, and smiled into the kiss, wrapping his arms around Bak’s waist. 

When they pulled away, Komui was the one to start talking.

“Lenalee told me you were going to kick my ass if I didn’t buy you coffee.” 

Bak laughed and pulled his phone out of his pocket, quickly shooting Fou a message saying he’d be skipping on their dinner plans. 

“You’re damn right I will.”

 

\--

 

Bak threw open the front door to his apartment with a loud creak followed by a fairly serious-sounding snapping noise.He needed to talk to the landlord about the broken hinges. He took a deep breath in and kicked off his shoes into the bin sitting in the corner. It had been a long day, and he wasn’t going to let himself get this annoyed before 10 o’clock.

Bak slowly plodded down the hallway walked into the living room, immediately collapsing onto the couch next to Komui. 

“No ‘honey, I’m home!’ tonight?” 

“The door’s broken again,” he said and rubbed his forehead in an attempt to soothe the splitting headache he’d had since that afternoon. 

It had been three months since they’d moved in together in the apartment above the shop. It’d been Komui’s idea in the first place, he’d said something along the lines of: _“It won’t make my commute any more difficult, but you moving in with me will make yours worse.”_ It felt like it’d been so much longer than just a quarter of a year, but everything just seemed to fit together perfectly (even though Komui was unbearably messy and left his things _everywhere_ ). 

Komui leaned down and kissed Bak on the cheek. “Any bad customers today?” 

He always knew exactly what to say. 

“Like you wouldn’t _believe_ .” Bak sat up and rested his head on Komui’s shoulder. “Where should I start?”

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading my little drabble-thing! sorry it got... long and kinda angsty at bits?
> 
> komui's canonical hobby is sewing, so why not take advantage of that and write an incredibly sappy and self-indulgent fic about bak owning a fabric store and komui being a regular customer.
> 
> this is the first komubak i've written in a long time, and the first one i've ever posted publicly, so i hope it was satisfactory!! bak being trans has been, like, my #1 hc for him forever so i'm glad i've finally gotten the courage to do tht in fic. 
> 
> also, purple lilacs mean first love, so there's that. komui is a big mushy gay.
> 
> again, thank you so much and i hope you liked it!!


End file.
